You Are The Music In Me
by DancingInMyDreams
Summary: Nuh-uh, you're just going to have to read it if you wanna know! Rated T, might be M later on.
1. Chapter 1

The first day at a new school is always the hardest. By now, I was sure I knew this better than anyone else on the planet. After my mom left me and my dad, we'd moved around a grand total of twenty-two times. Mostly staying inside of Connecticut, this was my first time living in a different state since I was one and we lived in New Bedford, Massachusetts. I woke up with a sense of dread hanging over my head because I just couldn t help it, and when I got dressed, I started to become sick to my stomach. The only good thing I could think of was that my outfit was looking good- black fireworks-covered tee, blue denim vest, skinny jeans distressed in a huge vertical line down the front of each leg, and my purple high-top Converse. My hair was in its normal barrel curls, the lime green chunks in front framing my face and clashing with the boring brown of the rest of my hair. I refused to eat breakfast, worrying my dad, and sat through the car ride with my headphones crammed into my ears. My playlist consisted of mostly rock Aerosmith, Metallica, Green Day, etc. mixed in with some classics like The Ramones and Led Zeppelin.

I wondered the whole way there, not to mention worried. I wondered if I would meet anyone I liked there, then worried that everyone would hate me. I wondered if they would have a field hockey team, then worried that they wouldn't let me on it. I mostly kept imagining what it would be like if I was accepted somehow magically, though I knew that it would take a lot to convince those Lima kids that little old newbie me wasn't here to disrupt social peace, she was here because she had to be. I soon found our lame little Corolla pulling up to the McKinley high parking lot and then got the jitters. I realized I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing here...not to mention, I was probably the only person with green streaks in her hair that were so bright you could see em from a mile away.

I pouted as my dad yanked the headphones out of my ears. He d interrupted one of my favorite Green Day songs, 21 Guns, and I wasn't too happy about it. "Go. Have fun," he said to me as he kicked me out of the car. Have fun. Psh, yeah right! Hadn't he been to high school? Fun and high school just don t mix. I clambered out of the car, being careful not to trip and make a fool of myself the minute I stepped on school grounds, and started clomping towards the school. I didn t want to go to school. I didn t want to be here. This was such an unfamiliar place, and let me tell you, it sucks to be wandering around the hallways like a lost puppydog. Eventually I found a bathroom, the only place I could manage to find, and entered to avoid looking even stupider. I made it look like it was my intended destination to save myself the embarrassment.

Inside, I wasn't alone though. I guess I'd expected it to be empty, but I didn t get what I wanted, now did I? Some girl dressed like my ten-year-old cousin in a white cap sleeve blouse, blue wool jumper, Mary Janes, and tube socks was stapling flyers covered in gold stars to the bathroom wall. I walked in, plopped on the floor, and examined the map I was given at orientation one last time, acting like little Miss Fifth-Grader wasn't even there. But I guess I couldn t avoid all contact with kids my own age for long. The chick crouched down next to me and said, "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry, and I m guessing you're new here. I'm the New Directions -that's McKinley's glee club, by the way- female lead. We re looking for background singers, so you can check out the flyer I just put up if you're interested. She gave me one of those big, false, infomercial-type smiles. I gave her a weak smile back and said, "Okay", but I really meant, "Not in this lifetime." I wasn t big on singing publically, but I guess backup singing wouldn t be so bad. I didn t want to do it when I didn t know anybody, though, nor did I want to be stuck with a diva like this Rachel chick.

"Oh, and what did you say your name was?" she asked me, standing up. "I didn't, but I'm Dana Estelle." "Oh, okay! Hopefully I'll see you at auditions." It all sounded like a big lie to me, and it didn t help that she left the bathroom muttering to herself about how much of a pushover she thought I was, and how I would totally end up trying out for this New Directions thing and they could get more glee members without her having to give up her spotlight. Can you spell B-I-T-C-H? I couldn't help it, though- at least, the musician inside me couldn't. I'd played bass since I was seven and I'd won three singing competitions over the years, so I was drawn to the flyer on the wall. It was printed on scrapbooking paper with gold stars all over it and was typed in a fancy cursive-y font. "New Directions Glee Club, looking for backup singers-" Rachel must ve been responsible for the flyer, seeing as the word backup was mixed in there. "-Interested girls contact Rachel Berry or Mr. Shuester for an audition time. Glee Club meets every day in the music room down the hall from the main office." Part of me kind of wanted to try out, but not without someone else to go with me. If only a friend had moved with me...sigh. I went back to trying to locate my homeroom on the map.

After a good fifteen minutes of studying the best route from the bathroom to homeroom, I finally managed to leave the bathroom and try to get where I was going. My eyes were still glued to the map, though, because I didn't trust myself. But apparently I was right not to trust myself because I ended up running face first into someone. I didn't know who that someone was, but they were way taller than me (yet again, who wasn't?) and they had a rock-hard chest. "Sorry," I mumbled, my cheeks turning bright red. I looked up quickly to see who I'd run into and it ended up being a good-looking blond guy who seemed just as flustered as I was. "Uhh, it's okay," he muttered, attempting a weak smile. Then we parted separate ways. I guess he was as shy as I was and wanted to avoid any potential embarrassment also. But I wanted to know who this guy was! Grr.

I didn't find out until lunch that day when the New Directions club or whatever ended up performing. They had a really cool outdoor cafeteria that I thought was pretty much the best thing since sliced bread. I knew the song they were singing and started mouthing the words, staring at the ground. When I was looking down, I saw a foot tapping. Looking up, it was the adorable blond from earlier. Aha! Yes! I was going to get my answers whether he wanted to give them to me or not. I waited until the bell rang for the next period to begin and cornered him before he could get away. "So, uh, good song, right?" I said, trying to make conversation. "Yeah. It had a good beat," he said, shrugging. "I'm Dana," I told him, feeling awkward for not introducing myself straight away. "I'm Sam." I crossed my fingers that Sam would know where the Spanish classroom was.

"Cool name. How long have you lived in Lima?" I asked curiously, starting him off. If the answer was more than a year, he probably would ve been going here for at least a year, so he d know where he was going. "About a week I guess. I'm new," he explained. Shit. "I'm new, too. I've got literally no idea where I m going," I said with a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I know the feeling," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "So, um, I guess I'll see you around?" Sam asked. I smiled, meaning it. "Yeah, I guess you will," I told him. He cracked a smile and I headed off to find that Rachel chick. She didn't seem helpful, but maybe she'd give me directions.


	2. Chapter 2

By the end of my first week at Lima, I'd gotten to know this Sam guy a bit better. I helped him with his math homework and we kind of helped each other out with directions. It was kind of a relief that we were both new, because we would be suffering together, but half the time we ended up lost. We also were getting labeled as that stereotypical new kid couple already, which I knew was totally and completely untrue, so it kind of sucked.

Also by the end of my first week at Lima, it was eating away at me alive. I wanted to join Glee. I hated admitting it, because it wouldn't exactly make me the most popular girl in school and I wasn't sure if I was any good at singing or not, but it was true. I wanted to be stuck with a bunch of musically gifted nerds, including that bitchy Rachel girl. I wanted to sing and maybe I'd even get to play some bass. I hadn't picked up a bass since eighth grade, but I was sure I knew the chords and stuff still.

It was a Thursday and I was wearing a black shirt printed with hot pink skulls, a neon yellow vest (vests were the staple of my every outfit), a jean skirt, hot pink tights, and once again, my Converse. There were Glee club flyers all over the place, seemingly trying to haunt me. A tiny voice inside me wondered if Sam would try out with me, though I doubted it. He had a nice voice –we'd get distracted by the radio and start singing every once in awhile when we were trying to study- but he just didn't seem the type. This thought continued to haunt me even more than the flyers, though it really didn't help any part of me wanting to be in New Directions knowing that I might have a partner to try out with.

Biology was my first class of the day. My partner was a cheerleader named Quinn. I didn't like her attitude – maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was head of the Cheerios squad, but she seemed to act like a Miss Popularity Queen type of person, and I didn't tend to like people who acted like that. We managed to get our classwork done, though, and that was what mattered.

The classes passed really slowly all the way up through lunch. At lunch I found a table sitting with Rachel from the bathroom. She wasn't really so bad I guess – her friends were nicer, though. Quinn was friends with her, but she sat with the cheerleading squad. Everyone Rachel hung out with was one of the Glee club members. It was a small table of five today – a nice darker-skinned girl named Mercades, a pale gay guy named Kurt with a rockin' fashion sense, Rachel, and her football-playing boyfriend, Finn. The one thing I couldn't stand about Finn was how much taller he was than me. It was aggrivating. I sat there stabbing at my salad and finally felt compelled to tell them, "I'm thinking about trying out for glee club." Kurt gave me a smile. "That's great. You'd be fabulous, you know," he praised. Mercades, grinning, seemed to agree. "Yeah, you would. You should go for it." Rachel sat there pouting and Finn seemed a little afraid to say anything. "Well, I would, but it all kind of depends on whether or not I can get my friend to try out with me," I explained. Mercades smiled. "A friend or a more than a friend type of friend?" she asked teasingly. I rolled my eyes and munched on a crouton. "Shut up, Mercades, it's not like that at all." Kurt pitched in: "Well if it's that gorgeous blond football player you've been hanging around with, I'd say it was a more than a friend." Finn rolled his eyes and said, "I'm sure Dana and Sam have nothing going on." I gave him a grateful smile whereas Kurt and Mercades, "whatever"ed.

Later that day, I cornered Sam. During school, it was hard to get a chance to talk to him. Guys from the football team were always around him, asking him questions – Sam'd taken Finn's place as quarterback, so he was kind of in charge of a whole team of sweaty guys. Well, maybe more than kind of….you get the idea. Anyways, I cornered him in a very…._unique_ way – by hopping on top of him piggyback-style. "Hey Sam!" I shouted, jumping on his back. "Ahh! Dana! Get off of me!" he exclaimed. I laughed and hopped off. "I'm surprised you knew it was me," I admitted. "How could I not? You're the loudest person I've ever met," he said with a shrug. I rolled my eyes. "So….I was thinking about going out for glee club," I changed the subject conversationally. "Sounds like a good idea. You'd be good," Sam responded, taking a sip out of his bottle of water. "Would you try out with me?" I asked him. He did a full-on spit take and yelled, "WHAT?"

I didn't bother to repeat the question. Instead, I clasped my hands together in a beggar's position. "Please please please Sam?" I asked, fake-pouting. "No way! Are you crazy? I mean, I like this singing stuff as much as you do I guess, but I can't do that! I'm already way too much of an outcast for being new," he complained. "Are you sure about that? You're the frickin' quarterback. Doesn't that make you automatically like the most popular dude in the school?" I protested. He shrugged. "Whatever. You don't care what people think of you, so it's easy for you to say." I rolled my eyes. "You know I blush more than anyone else on the planet. I get embarrassed over everything! Of course I care what people think…..I just don't think that what people think should stop you from doing stuff you wanna do." "Who said I wanted to do this?" Sam pointed out. "You and I both know you do," I sing-songed.

"Please Sam?" I asked. "Please please please?" He rolled his eyes, then his face lit up as if he'd invented a cure for cancer. "On one itsy-bitsy condition," he said. I grinned and clapped my hands eagerly. "Yay! What's the condition?" I asked with excitement. "You try out to be a cheerleader. If you go and tell Coach Sylvester that you want to be a Cheerio, I'll try out for that New Directions thing with you." My mouth dropped to the floor. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I screamed. "Sam, you know cheerleading is against everything I stand for – morally, ethically, and socially! It's just a bunch of sluts in skimpy uniforms flouncing around and showing off their matching underwear!" Sam rolled his eyes. "I guess you don't want me to go out for glee then." I groaned. "I hate you." "So you'll do it?" "I hate you so much right now, Sam." "You're trying out aren't you?" "Yup. And you're trying out for glee?" "Um, I guess so." "This sucks." "Yeah, it does."

And so I, Dana Gloria Estelle, agreed to do the one thing I never wanted to do – I was about to try out to be a cheerleader. On the brighter side of the mountain, Sam was gonna try out for glee club with me. So, we walked side by side and discussed happier things than cheerleading and decided to start talking about what songs we would sing. All in all, I think I'd gotten him at least a little excited for auditions.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hi, my name is Dana Estelle," I said lifelessly, standing in front of Coach Sylvester wearing my gym shorts and a Cheerios t-shirt. I glanced up at Sam, who seemed very amused and was watching me from the bleachers. He was also the reason I was standing here in the first place, I remembered, and shot dagger-eyes at him. "And I want to be a Cheerio," I added with dry fake enthusiasm. Coach looked at me from under her reading glasses with disbelief – she probably was under as much shock as I was that little five-foot-two Dana Estelle with the lime green streaks in her hair wanted to be a cheerleader. Well, I didn't really want to – what I wanted was to see quarterback Sam in glee club because I wanted to try out, but not alone, and I had a feeling he could be amazing. So I turned on my big fake smile and waited for Coach Sylvester to give me the okay.

"Well, you're not the type I'd expect, but I guess you can show me what you've got," she said. I nodded and the dread in my stomach got worse. "Ready, okay!" I shouted. I then started to do a cheer, keeping sure to make my arms straight and tight. Kurt and Mercades were both cheerleaders at one point and had been spending the week coaching me. Little imitations of their voices kept running through my mind. "Keep your arms straight!" "Everything has to be perfect!" "Look happy!" I found that last one the hardest of all, only because to be a McKinley high Cheerio was the last thing I wanted. One thing was for sure – even if I did make the squad, I wasn't going to spend my entire life wearing that uniform. They'd get me in that thing at games and competitions, and games and competitions _only_. Other than that, I wasn't about to become another Cheerio slut. I finished the cheer with a roundoff leading into an aerial cartwheel and back handspring. I did yoga for a long time, so I'd always been flexible – all it took was a little coaching and I'd managed to learn the moves. "Gooooo McKinley!" I finished, beginning to pant. I turned around to glare at Sam again, then gave Coach an honest smile. I was smiling because I was happy that it was finally OVER! Just another hour and I'd have glee club auditions anyways. I was excited 'cause I knew Sam was gonna rock Mr. Shue's socks off. Me…..well, I wasn't very sure about that. I looked at him again and he gave me a cheesy little wave.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to Coach Sylvester. She was staring at me like I was some sort of circus freak. Whether that was good or bad, I was unaware of. I only knew that I wanted her to scream at me to get the heck out of her gym, tell me I was a horrible cheerleader, then be able to walk out with the dignity I came in with, relieved to know that I wouldn't have to suffer through calling myself a Cheerio for the whole school year. I waited and waited for like ten minutes. I was getting jittery and I could see Sam fidgeting around in his seat. Tick tock, tick tock….Finally, she took off her glasses all professionally and stood, opening her mouth as if to speak. "Congratulations," she finally said. I hoped she was about to mock me. "You're a Cheerio. Just keep your pep level up, though, and maybe drop a pound or two in that stomach region." I clutched my stomach self-consciously, offered her a weak smile, and turned around to tell Sam the "good" news.

"And so little Dana is a cheerleader," he teased me. I rolled my eyes. "Oh, gosh, don't remind me….."Sam shrugged and said, "It isn't a big deal. Really, I think you're overreacting." I rolled my eyes and pointed out sarcastically, "Oh, yeah, and you _weren't_ overreacting when I said you should try out for glee club with me." Sam frowned. "That's different," he protested. "How?" I asked him, lifting an eyebrow. "It just is," he replied, shrugging again. I stuck my tongue out at him and handed him the lyrics to his audition song from my back pocket. "Forgive me, but they're crumpled into a ball," I said, pretending to be apologetic. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with." "You're gonna do great," I reassured him in a sing-songy voice, dragging him by the arm towards the music room.

"You're going first," I told him, taking a deep breath. I stood before the door, staring it down as if it would melt away if I did so. My nails were digging into Sam's arm; I was suddenly getting really nervous. "But I don't wanna," Sam taunted. I stuck my tongue out at him, silently cursing him for making me go first, and took another deep breath before opening the door. I released my hold on Sam's arm and waved shyly at Mr. Shuester, butterflies arousing in my stomach. "Hi Dana. Can I help you with something?" Mr. Shue said, the corners of his mouth turned up like he was about to crack a smile. Sam started to clear his throat. "We were, um, wondering if we could, uh, audition for glee club?" I asked, smiling hopefully near the end. Mr. Shue smiled. "Sure. Whichever one of you wants to go first can start warming up and then the other can go sit down on the risers with the rest of the club," he explained. I smiled, eyes flickering towards the risers where Sam was about to sit, and caught Mercades' eye. She smiled at me and mouthed, "Good luck." I full-on grinned then asked Mr. Shue if I should start. "Whenever you're ready," he told me. I took a deep breath and began to say:

"Um, if I end up in glee, you'll find out that I normally don't really sing this type of stuff, but, uh, we kind of picked each others' songs, so um…yeah, I hope it sounds okay?" My voice cracked up near the end so it sounded more like a question than a statement. I could hear Sam trying not to snicker. I shot dagger eyes at him before cuing the band to start. I'd already handed them the music.

_I've never gone with the wind  
Just let it flow  
Let it take me where it wants to go  
Till you open the door  
There's so much more  
I've never seen it before_

I was trying to fly  
But I couldn't find wings  
Then you came along  
And you changed everything

You lift my feet off the ground  
Spin me around  
You make me crazier, crazier  
Feels like I'm falling and I  
I'm lost in your eyes  
You make me crazier,  
Crazier, crazier

Watched from a distance as you  
Made life your own  
Every sky was your own kind of blue  
And I wanted to know  
How that would feel  
And you made it so real

You showed me something that I couldn't see  
Opened my eyes and you made me believe

You lift my feet off the ground  
Spin me around  
You make me crazier, crazier  
Feels like I'm falling and I  
I'm lost in your eyes  
You make me crazier,  
Crazier, crazier, oh

Baby, you showed me what living is for  
I don't want to hide anymore

You lift my feet off the ground,oh oh  
You spin me around  
You make me crazier, crazier  
Feels like I'm falling and I  
I'm lost in your eyes  
You make me crazier,  
Crazier, crazier  
Crazier, crazier

I frowned towards the club, and then turned around to see what Mr. Shuester would say. I couldn't stop thinking, _Screw Sam for making me sing Taylor Swift._ After a few short moments of thought, Mr. Shue said, "That was good, Dana. You can take a seat now." I smiled thankfully and sat down, my heart pounding inside of my chest, wondering if I would make it or not. I didn't want to make it if Sam didn't, though. At least I'd worked up the nerve to audition….but once I was in, there was no getting out. I stuck with my commitments. I had to shove Sam before he would go up. He said not a word, but picked up a guitar and started to play. I smiled, hearing the familiar music. I had picked out an Aerosmith song for him. He started to sing.

_I could stay awake just to hear you breathing  
Watch you smile while you are sleeping  
While you're far away and dreaming  
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender  
I could stay lost in this moment forever  
Where every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure_

Don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you the sweetest dream would never do  
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing

Lying close to you feeling your heart beating  
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming  
Wondering if it's me you're seeing  
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together  
I just wanna stay with you in this moment forever, forever and ever

I don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you the sweetest dream would never do  
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing

I don't wanna miss one smile, I don't wanna miss one kiss  
I just wanna be with you, right here with you, just like this  
I just want to hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine  
And just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time

Don't wanna close my eyes, don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you the sweetest dream would never do  
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing

I don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you the sweetest dream would never do  
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing

I don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep  
Yeah, I don't wanna miss a thing

Sam stopped playing and began to clear his throat again. I could feel the mixture of awe and tension in the air. He was great! I'd never heard him sing so clearly before – I mean, whenever we would start singing along to the radio when we were supposed to be "studying", our voices were mixed together – and I could vouch for it that he had one of the best voices I'd ever heard. I didn't doubt he would make it, not one bit. So if I made it too, then I wouldn't be sitting through it alone. Of course, I'd still have Kurt and Mercades….but I didn't feel like it would be the same. I noticed that Sam, seemingly embarrassed, kept his eyes averted from Mr. Schuester's. I knew he was nervous because I'd felt the same way just minutes ago. "Sam, that was great also. I can look forward to seeing the both of you in glee club! You can take your seat now," Mr. Shuester said. I cracked a huge smile. Mercades and Kurt, whom I was sandwiched between, both leaned over and whispered their congrats, giving me a pat on the back. I looked over at Sam and couldn't help but grin. He smiled back.


	4. Chapter 4

I was out walking my dog when I heard the bad news. My homework wasn't finished, but my St. Bernard, Benji, always came first. He was an old doggie with lots of health problems, so he could drop dead pretty much any moment, and it was super important to me that I made sure he was getting the proper amount of excersise. We were walking down Bort Street when my phone started vibrating. Benji's leash wound around my wrist so he wouldn't start trotting away, I picked it up and said, "'Ello, you've reached Dana."

"Dana?" It was Mercades on the other line. I smiled, not having a clue that it would mean bad news. "Hey, Mercades. What's up?" I said conversationally. I sounded so casual, so carefree compared to her. "It's Kurt's dad. Something's happened." I felt my heartbeat slow and my jaw silently dropped as she explained. Kurt's dad had had a heart attack – he was still alive, but he was totally and completely comatose, and wasn't reacting to anything. Kurt was pretty much heartbroken. Mercades also let me know that he was getting really frustrated because people kept praying for his dad, but he didn't believe in God. I got the feeling I was the last to know….yet again, Sam probably didn't have a clue. My eyes started to water and I started to dial Kurt's number after she hung up, but then stopped. Would I want to be bothered if I was him?

I took Benji home straight after that. At night, I barely got any sleep. I lay awake for hours, just staring at the dark ceiling and wondering what Kurt had done to deserve this. So he wasn't straight, so what? That wasn't his fault; it didn't mean anything. The next morning was a game day. As a McKinley High cheerleader (ugh, thanks a lot, Sam), I had to wear my uniform to school before games that we were going to be cheering at. I couldn't stand the v-neck tanktop and pleated skirt, which was way too short in my opinion. I pulled my mid-back length hair into a high ponytail so I wouldn't have to touch it later, letting a few strands of the lime-colored chunks in front frame my face, and looked at my baggy eyes in the mirror. I couldn't look less like a cheerleader.

Sam looked really surprised that I'd worn the uniform. "You look like a cheerleader," he said, his voice filled with surprise. "Like a really tired cheerleader." I rolled my eyes and told him that it wasn't my fault. He didn't know what I meant. I didn't know if Kurt would've wanted him to know or not, so I just said, "I gotta get to class before my homeroom teacher kills me," and walked away. During glee that day, you could tell something was up. He didn't say much, and this week's lesson was all about spirituality thanks to Finn and his newfound obsession with Jesus and all, so he kept getting distracted and making dagger eyes. I didn't know why he was mad, though….but I had just the thing to help him.

When my parents married, my dad worshipped nothing and my mom was Jewish. They agreed not to let religion get in the way of their marriage, so even though mom continued to go to temple and practice Judiasm still and dad kept worshipping nothing, they agreed not to raise me as any religion and that I would get to choose if I wanted to when I was older. Even after my mom walked out on us, my dad stuck to that. He felt that fifteen, just a year ago, was old enough for me to decide, so he bought me a book called, "The Logic of God". I call it, "The Book" inside my head. My dad basically handed me "The Book" and said, "You're old enough to pick a religion if you want it, but I think you should read this first." "The Book" was written by a psychologist giving tons and tons of psychoanalysis and telling a bunch of psychological reasons why people look to greater beings such as Gods or Goddesses to solve their problems. In the back, there's a chart of ways to solve your own problems. I knew my dad was trying to discourage me from taking a religion with that book for whatever reason (maybe he didn't want to associate me with mom and have me pick to be Jewish, or maybe he wanted me to be nothing like he was) but I felt like it helped me understand the whole concept of a religion better. And guess what? I'm not anything. I chose that I wanted not to worship anything. It wasn't that I didn't believe that there was a greater being above us; I just didn't know what that being might be, and decided not to associate myself with it.

"The Book" was shoved in a secret pocket of my backpack. I'd thought of it as soon as Mercades told me about Kurt's not having a religion and him being upset about people praying for his dad. You want to know why it came to mind? A. because it helped me so much and B. because I thought he might want to understand why they were doing it instead of just being told what I guessed everyone else was telling him when they asked – "Ignore it; it's for your dad, not you." After glee club that day, I pulled "The Logic of God" out of my backpack, hugging it close to my red-and-white cheerleading uniform-ed chest, and went to Kurt's locker so I could talk to him.

"Hi Kurt," I said, my voice coming out quiet. He slammed his locker door and said, "Hi." _He does sound really upset, _I thought. "Look, I want you to know that Mercades told me everything that happened, and I don't think anyone should have to go through what you're going through right now. I'm really sorry, Kurt." He stayed silent for a moment. "Oh. Okay. Well, thank you for your concerns. I'll just be going now," he said, obviously trying not to cry or anything from the way his voice was cracking. He started to walk away, but I caught him by the arm. "Wait, Kurt." Kurt sighed and turned around again. "Okay. Finish what you need to say." I took a deep breath and handed him the book. "Mercades told me you're having some religion problems because people are being spiritual with….with the way they're trying to let you know that they're sorry. By praying for him?" I struggled to find the right words to use. "Anyways, I grew up without a religion, and Mercades told me you don't believe in God, so I thought you might want to know why they're praying and all that stuff. My dad bought me it. It'll help, as long as you can stand a few hundred pages of psychoanalysis." Kurt tried to force a bit of a smile, but it obviously wasn't working. He looked over the back cover and told me, "Thank you. I really do appreciate it. It's hard to make sense of, especially since I can't relate. I'll see you in class later." He tried to smile again and started to walk away, reading the first page as he did so. I smiled, happy I was able to help, and hoped he wouldn't walk into a wall as he was reading.

That night was the football game, and my first time cheering in front of people. There were a lot of stupid cheers, but there were some catchy ones, too. So far, we weren't doing so well. The clock was ticking away and we were behind by like a dozen points. We were doing one of our most obnoxious cheers, too. I couldn't imagine how distracting it must've been for the players. "M-C! K-I! N-L! E-Y! Let's go! McKinley High!" It was starting to be practically branded into my head. We were just sitting on the sidelines now, not really performing a cheer, just trying to lift some spirits. I looked for Sam's number (he was the QB) in the sea of overly-large high school football players. There it was. My eyes locked on the jersey, and I knew his blond hair must've been under that bright red helmet.

Another play was about to start, and just then, head cheerleader Quinn decided we were going to do our pyramid. "Okay, into formation guys," she whispered. We all stood up. As one of the lightest, I was a flyer, meaning I had to be on top for all of the stunts. Quinn was another flyer and some other girl I wasn't familiar with was the other. There were five flyers altogether, but for this stunt, we only needed three. "READY! OKAY!" There were two smaller pyramids on either side of the large one in the middle. I hated being up so high. We started to cheer, but the referee blew his whistle, and because we all wanted to know what was going on, we stopped. So high up, I could see over almost everything. And I could see one of our players on the ground, looking as though they were in pain. I couldn't see the number, but behind my back, I crossed my fingers. Quinn decided we should de-formate the pyramids, so I dropped down. My spotter, a redhead named Michaela, caught me. She had been a cheerleader for a really long time now, so she was good at what she did. I couldn't see very well now that I was back on the ground, being really small and short, so I climbed up onto the bench. The player was now being taken out of the game – they must've gotten injured. It seemed to be his shoulder that was troubling him – I could tell as he was walking away. But then something caught my eye – the player had blond hair. As much as I was dreading it, I looked at the number on the back of the jersey and gasped. Sam had been hurt.

That night, I came home to find Benji sprawled on the floor, panting and shaking all over. I didn't know what the problem was. It seemed as though my poor St. Bernard was having a seizure or something. I called my dad and he raced home from work. We drove him towards the animal hospital nearby, but a quarter of the way there, his ragged breathing just stopped. No more heartbeat, no more sound, no more shaking. Benji went still and cold….and he died. I started to cry, no matter how much I didn't want to. No doubt had this been the worst day of my life – my friend's dad in a coma, my best friend hurt and taken off of the football team (or so I guessed), and Benji dead. What had _I_ done to deserve _this_?


	5. Chapter 5

Over the weekend, I'd gotten over feeling sorry for myself and Sam, and when Monday rolled around, I was just plain old angry. So the minute I thought of someone, something, _anything _to take out my anger on, I went through with it. In this case, it was a someone. The only damn person I had any right to be mad at was Finn Hudson. Everyone knew he was quarterback now – he'd been the one to finish the game and have them win, too. But I was also able to find out that he hadn't been quarterback before. He used to be, but then the new coach took him off the team and gave Sam his position. It was common knowledge that football was his life, and that he would've done practically anything to be quarterback again. Of course, I have no idea how a high school guy who is obviously not too bright would be able to rig a 300-pounder to tackle Sam and dislocate his shoulder, but I'm naieve, I didn't need a _good_ reason, just a reason.

That morning in the parking lot I made sure my dad had driven away – far, far away, 'cause any chances of him witnessing this would have gotten me grounded for life – before I went to go settle things with Finn. I had to admit, my conscience was doing a good job of making me feel stupid for taking out my anger on someone who had little to no relevence with my problems. _Yet again_, I reminded myself, _I can vouch that he probably wanted Sam to get hurt so he could have his spot back. _So I went through with it. I marched right up to that Finn Hudson and punched him right in the face….

….and ended up in the guidance counselor's office with him. The counselor's name was Miss Pillsbury. She was a redheaded OCD type of person with the frickin' weirdest pamphlets on her desk. "So, Dana, tell me why you hit Finn," Miss Pillsbury said, folding her hands on her lap. She had the best posture that I'd ever seen – it was kind of creepy. "I was angry with my life, and he was the only person I could think to take it out on," I explained emotionlessly. If I didn't keep on a poker face, I was bound to be suspended, and I couldn't go through that again. It'd happened a grand total of fifteen times to me before at some of my old schools, and it kind of sucked because whenever I did get suspended, Dad insisted on staying home from work and attempting to homeschool me. He was a substitute teacher, but he was the worst substitute in the history of bad subs. The guidance counselor turned to Finn, who was holding an ice pack to his swollen eye. As bitchy as this sounds, I was kind of proud of myself because I'd never been able to hit that hard before. He would definitely have a black eye; that was a new accomplishment for me. "Finn, why do you _think _she hit you?" Miss Pillsbury asked him.

"I don't know!" he said all exasperated, obviously trying to defend himself. You could tell he was trying to get out of there fast, probably so he could have Rachel dote all over him like an overprotective mother. "I said _think_, Finn, you don't have to be spot on; I just wanted to know if there was anything you might have done to her that would make her angry at you," she explained. Finn shook his head. "No, I can't think of anything," he said. Miss Pillsbury turned to me and I knew another question was coming on. Ugh, I hate guidance counselors. "How did Finn make you angry, then, if he can't think of anything he might have said or done to you?" The one good thing about her was that she never sounded like she was accusing me of anything. "It's kind of stupid, but um, I have a good friend on the football team named Sam, and he has the position Finn used to play. Then Sam got hurt and Finn was made quarterback again….I don't really know. It just seemed like he would want Sam out of the way so he could have his position back, and a lot's happened to me, so I guess my thinking was kind of clouded," I said, being 100% honest now that I was almost sure that I wasn't going to be suspended. "Okay. Thank you for telling the truth, Dana. Finn, you may return to class," Miss Pillsbury said. I was being made to stay….this could be bad, or it could just be awkward.

"Dana….can you try to explain to me how you could be so close to Sam over just a few months that you would hit somebody else just to feel like you were protecting him?" Miss Pillsbury asked. I didn't want to answer, but I was starting to get a little angry because it wasn't that I was protecting him – I mean, it could be, but it was more that I was trying to help myself get rid of all the anger that was bubbling up inside of me. I decided not to answer, and just asked, "May I go back to class now, Miss Pillsbury?" Neatening some papers on her desk, she said, "Yes. You may go. But I would like you to come see me once a week to work on your anger issues please. Is Wednesday during free period good for you?" I shook my head. "No, I have glee club during free period." Miss Pillsbury tried her best to smile. "Oh, alright then. Well, we will work something out with your schedule. Maybe you could miss half of gym class every day or something." "Bye, Miss Pillsbury." I left, trying not to seem too aggrivated.

In glee club, I seemed to have earned some new level of respect or something. I don't even know. All I know was that Rachel seemed majorly pissed at me, which sucked because her death stares made me want to curl up in a ball and literally die they felt so awkwardly suckish. And I also know that I heard one of the guys from the football team named Noah a.k.a. Puck say to me, "Hey babe, call me!"

Later that day after cheer practice, I went outside to call my dad for a ride. The service was good outside the football field, so I walked the short distance to get there. Football practice was still going on, and I managed to notice Sam sitting in the bleachers and watching. I stopped dialing and saw how upset he looked, so I went to go join him."Hey," I said. "Hi." He was pretty quiet, which wasn't much like him. Shy – yes, quiet – no. "What're you doing all the way up here?" I asked. "I can't play, but the coach wants me to watch. Absorb the new plays and stuff," he explained. "Oh." I didn't know much about football, but I could tell that Sam loved it. "It must suck to have to sit and watch something you love but not actually be able to do it," I sighed. "Yeah. Football practice without playing football is like hell for me," Sam said. "Well, you could think of it the way your coach obviously wants you to," I suggested. He tore his eyes away from the game for the first time and raised an eyebrow at me. "Huh?" "Your coach told you to watch probably because even though you can't play, you'll be learning more about the game. You learn more by watching than by skipping out just because of your shoulder," I explained. Sam rolled his eyes and looked back at the game. "You have the weirdest way of looking at things," he said. "I know. I mean, I guess I do…." I started to ramble.

Sam finally just said, "Dana? Shut up for a minute." I started to say, "Why do you want me to-" That was as far as I got before he kissed me. It started out as one of those soft kisses, but then turned into a kiss like you see in the movies, all passionate and whatnot. I didn't really know much about these things, but I'd say he was a hell of a good kisser. I don't really know how long we stayed like that because after a minute and a half, I stopped counting. He must've pulled away eventually. I honestly was too distracted to care.


	6. Chapter 6

For the next couple of days, I was literally floating on a cloud. That was until we got our next glee assignment. I walked into class with Sam before anyone else did (not including Mr. Shue) and saw what was written on the board – "DUETS". Shit. For a minute, I got excited because I thought I might get to sing with Sam, but teachers always trick you with these sorts of things.

When everyone had filed onto the risers, Mr. Schue started to talk. "This week in glee club you are going to be performing a duet with a partner." At the mention of the word partner, people started eyeing each other possesively or whispering to their friends about what a good song might be. "The song you choose does not need to be written as a duet, but if you pick one that isn't already a duet, you and your partner will be responsible for splitting it into the two parts. Any questions so far?" Rachel's hand shot up into the air. "Yes, Rachel," Mr. Shue said. "Who will be choosing our partners?" she asked eagerly, looking up at Finn who was sitting above her and happened to still have a black eye.

"That's another thing," Mr. Shuester said. "Duets are also about the chemistry between the two singers. That chemistry could be good or bad depending on who they are and what they're singing about. I will be assigning your partners because I know if you pick your own, you will be rushing straight to a friend or a boyfriend-slash-girlfriend because you know them well. I want to put you with someone you're not necessarily comfortable with yet, even though it could be someone you know well, because I'm looking for the chemistry between you. It could be someone you hate or someone you're in love with or your best friend. It's your job to identify why I put you with that person and to pick a song that goes along with that." I wasn't entirely following him. "Now, we have an odd number this year, so one of you will have to be with me. Any volunteers?" Nobody was raising their hand. "Okay. Dana, would you mind being a good sport and partnering up with me?" I knew I didn't have a choice so I said, "Sure." He smiled and said, "Great!" then assigned the others partners. Sam got paired up with Quinn. I knew it was going to be awkward just from the way Sam started figeting in his seat when Mr. Shue called their names.

I got Mr. Shue to let me pick "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day. He told me I would be responsible for splitting up the parts since I was the student and not him, which I was okay with. It took me two days to find the right mixture – basically I handed the lower notes and some of the lyrics I didn't want to sing over to Mr. Shuester, and gave myself the higher contrasting parts. On Thursday, I needed to find him so we could practice, and he wasn't in his classroom, so I checked the music room. I heard singing, so I knew someone else was probably practicing in there. Oh well. I opened the door anyways and said, "Hey, has anyone seen Mr. Shuester?" I looked up from the lyrics in my hands, all broken into parts. And I saw Sam and Quinn about to kiss….or at least, that's what it looked like. Well, Mr. Shuester apparently knew a thing or two about chemistry. I closed the door, hoping they hadn't heard me, and walked away, not really understanding what I'd just seen.

That day in glee club, I had a song to sing. It took me awhile to process my thoughts into feelings and I guess there wasn't anything to describe it, but eventually I found something close, even though it was miles away from where I was at. I asked Mr. Shue if I could sing it and he let me. I was at least a little happy that he hadn't said no.

_Everybody wants something, just a little more  
We're makin a living, and what we're livin for  
A rich man or a poor man, a pawn or a king  
You can live on the street, you can rule the whole world  
But you don't mean one damn thing_

What do you got, if you ain't got love  
Whatever you got, it just ain't enough  
You're walkin' the road, but you're goin' nowhere  
You're tryin' to find your way home, but there's no one there  
Who do you hold, in the dark of night  
You wanna give up, but it's worth the fight  
You have all the things, that you've been dreamin' of

If you ain't got someone, you're afraid to lose  
Everybody needs just one, someone... to tell them the truth  
Maybe I'm a dreamer, but I still believe  
I believe in hope, I believe the change can get us off our knees

What do you got, if you ain't got love  
Whatever you got, it just ain't enough  
You're walkin' the road, but you're goin' nowhere  
You're tryin' to find your way home, but there's no one there  
Who do you hold, in the dark of night  
You wanna give up, but it's worth the fight  
You have all the things, that you've been dreamin' of

If you ain't got love, it's all just keeping score  
If you ain't got love, what the hell we doing it for

I don't wanna have to talk about it  
How many songs you gotta sing about it  
How long you gonna live without it  
Why does someone somewhere have to doubt it  
Someday you'll figure it out

What do you got, if you ain't got love  
Whatever you got, it just ain't enough  
You're walkin' the road, but you're goin' nowhere  
You're tryin' to find your way home, but there's no one there  
Who do you hold, in the dark of night  
You wanna give up, but it's worth the fight  
You have all the things, that you've been dreamin' of

If you ain't got love, it's all just keeping score  
If you ain't got love, what the hell we doin' it for  
Woahhh, I ain't got, if you ain't got  
What do you got if you ain't got love  
What do you got if you ain't got love

I knew it was probably one of the best songs I'd ever sang, but I still couldn't stand the heat of having everyone's eyes on me. I kept my eyes averted, on the floor, but I had to look up eventually. I couldn't just stand there not saying anything or looking at anyone. But then Sam's eyes met mine and I couldn't take it. I ran out of the room and knew they'd seen me start to cry, breaking my promise to myself.

It was raining outside. I was sitting on the curb, just watching the cars and toying with my cell phone. I wondered if I should call my dad and ask him to pick me up. I could tell him I was sick, which would be the truth in some ways. I was still crying, though, and that I was ashamed of. Even with the pouring rain, you could tell.

When there are puddles all over the place, it's easy to hear footsteps. I heard them, but convinced myself I was alone still. I ignored whoever must've been coming. Since I'd already ruined my promise, it wouldn't matter who saw me cry now. I just wished I could stop. I felt so stupid and cliché, just sitting here and bawling my eyes out like you see in dumb chick flicks. Since when did this happen in real life? I heard the footsteps getting closer and finally, whoever it was sat down next to me. I didn't need to look; I knew who it was.

I started to say something because I just needed to let it out. "I told myself I wouldn't let anyone see me cry. I promised it to myself when I was twelve because that was when my mom walked out. I was hugging her and begging her not to leave and sobbing, but she took my arms off of her back and slammed the door in my face. That was when I was stupid enough to say I wouldn't let anyone see me cry ever again. That lasted until today." I looked up and confirmed my "suspicions." I knew it would be Sam. Even though he apparently had something going on with Quinn, he was one of the few people who would care enough to go after me.

"I had to tell Kurt and Mercades to stay and let me handle it," Sam said. He had this weird way of knowing what I was thinking. "I guess that was smart," I said, sniffling and wiping at my eyes. I turned on my cell phone and wondered if now would be a good time to call my dad. "Are you going home?" he asked me. "I think so." "Are you going to need a ride?" I shook my head and sent my dad a quick text lying and telling him I'd thrown up in English class and that the nurse was sending me home. Now it would all be a wait….

For a few moments, it was silent. I managed to stop crying until the rain started to fall harder. I looked at Sam right in the eyes, surprised I was able to, and noticed how wet and uncomfortable he must've been. Then I thought that I didn't deserve people like this, and started to cry again. Sam let me cry into his shirt up until my dad picked me up. By then, he'd figured out I was lying, but he didn't protest. He took me straight home and left me alone for the rest of the afternoon.


	7. Chapter 7

I managed to skip school for three days before my dad finally told me I had to go again. "Heartsickness doesn't mean you're actually sick!" he told me. So he made me get up and I got dressed in black skinny jeans, a gray vest, a purple v-neck tee, and my Converse. My hair was loose for what felt like the first time in history. There were so many football games during a season that I had to keep my hair up practically every other day, not to mention wear the uniform. I'd actually grown to love cheerleading, though, but it sucked that I had Sam to blame for that. I thought of him every day when I was up doing stunts, and every night when I was trying to fall asleep. I didn't get why I couldn't just forget about him. We hadn't spoken for weeks, yet he was still on my mind.

I walked straight into glee club one day. Everyone was there except for Sam. People were whispering and chatting with each other for at least ten minutes before he finally showed up. He whispered something in Mr. Schuester's ear, and I heard Mr. Shue say, "Go for it." Sam picked up a guitar and started to play. I looked down at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact as he sang:

_Oh I had a lot to say was thinking on my time away  
I missed you and things weren't the same_

Cause everything inside it never comes out right  
And when I see you cry it makes me want to die

I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm sorry you're blue, I'm sorry about all things I said to you  
And I know I can't take it back  
I love how you kiss, I love all your sounds, and baby the way you make my world go round  
And I just wanted to say I'm sorry

This time I think I'm to blame it's harder to get through the days  
You get older and blame turns to shame

Cause everything inside it never comes out right  
And when I see you cry it makes me want to die

I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm sorry you're blue, I'm sorry about all things I said to you  
And I know I can't take it back  
I love how you kiss, I love all your sounds, and baby the way you make my world go round  
And I just wanted to say I'm sorry

Every single day I think about how we came all this way  
The sleepless nights and the tears you cried it's never too late to make it right  
Oh yeah sorry!

I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm sorry you're blue, I'm sorry about all things I said to you  
And I know I can't take it back  
I love how you kiss, I love all your sounds, and baby the way you make my world go round  
And I just wanted to say I'm sorry

Sam didn't say a single word to anybody, nor did he look at anybody. He wordlessly took his seat and I watched Quinn scooch over to join him. Her whispers were too loud for me not to notice. "Baby, what are you sorry for?" Ugh, she made me sick! "You wouldn't know. I didn't do anything to you," I heard Sam say. I looked up at him with a blank expression, trying to block the tears that were fighting their way out. I was crying so much lately….it wasn't like me. Sam's eyes met mine and then there was this small little moment of realization. Score: Dana 1, Quinn 0

During Cheerios practice, I was a lot more peppy. It's always like that when we're cheering – it does it's job well. It really does lift your spirits after months and months of doing it, and then when you're going through your own personal Dark Ages, it's the only thing you have to look forward to in life. The shouts and the stunts and the obnoxious cheer captains….they're all part of cheerleading, and they're all I had anymore. The one thing I could live without in cheering is Quinn Fabray.

Coach Sylvester wanted me to see her in her office after practice. I worried that she would kick me off the squad or worse – try to get me to do some of her dirty work. Then again, I figured she would know I was too smart not to see through her games, so she wouldn't even _attempt _to sucker me into something. But I was kind of down lately, and she might've figured that I would do the lowest of low right now. Anyways, I didn't know what she wanted.

Coach's office was like an overly-large cubicle with glass walls and chrome furniture. She had one of those leather spinny chairs that I was jealous of because I got to sit in a lame plastic chair that made me feel shorter than I already was. Not to mention that my chair didn't spin. Shelves and cases of Cheerios trophies lined the walls – ones for winning Districts, Regionals, States, and Nationals. I felt my stomach do an excited flip-flop. I wondered when our first competition would be.

"Now, Miss Estelle….have you not noticed that something is off with our cheering squad?" Coach Sylvester asked me. I shook my head because I hadn't. "Well, Quinn Fabray is what's off. Her form, her timing, and her stunts are all off. She's not setting a very good example for the squad. Something's distracting her." _Yeah, and that something is named Sam Evans, _I thought with haste. "I think the Cheerios need a new captain, and that you're the right girl for the job. What do you say?" Coach asked me. I cracked a huge smile for the first time in weeks. "I'll be the captain, sure, but what'll happen to Quinn?" I asked curiously. "She'll just be another cheerleader. She'll be under your control from now on," explained Coach Sylvester. I grinned wider and said excitedly, "Okay, I'll do it!" Coach smiled. "Great. But you'll have to wear your uniform every day from now on, not just on game days. And I want to see you build up a bit more muscle! Even flyers need to be strong." I nodded comprehensively. Score: Dana 2, Quinn 0

In the lunch line the day, Kurt and Mercades noticed something was up. It might've been my improved attitude, or it could've been the fact that my uniform was on and it wasn't even a game day. "Someone's happy again," Kurt remarked with a smile. I grinned. "Yeah, I am. Coach Sylvester promoted me to head cheerleader," I explained. Mercades smiled and said, "Well, congratulations, you lucky girl." She gave me a one-armed hug. We sat down at our usual table with Finn and Rachel. It was even luckier that they'd forgiven me, because if they hadn't, I had a feeling Rachel would make my life a living hell.

I started to dig into my chicken Caesar salad, but I lost my appetite when I saw Sam and Quinn sitting together. Instead, I stabbed my lettuce with my fork and tried to ignore them. "There's got to be something that's bad about her, other than the fact that she got demoted," I muttered. "Who?" Rachel asked, cocking her head to one side. She must've heard me, even though I hadn't meant for anyone to hear. "Quinn! She seems too perfect, like one of those stereotypical girls from those dumb novels I used to read when I was in eighth grade. There's got to be something she's done wrong." Rachel swallowed her mouthful of food and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Well, sure there is. Noah got her pregnant last year," Rachel said. Well that sure was something! I wondered if Sam knew…. Score: Dana 3, Quinn negative 5,000,000,003.

**I owe everybody a huge apology! I haven't been able to get on the computer for awhile and get this chapter published so thanks for hanging in there! And oh, I wrote this whole story before I even watched the episode with the Duet Competition, so please excuse me if some of the information is incorrect. **


	8. Chapter 8

It was Cheerios practice. I was getting used to be cheer captain – in fact, it was literally one of the best things that had ever happened to me. "Ready? OKAY!" I called and we started our halftime routine. We did it to a Rhianna song and it was coming along great. Except for Quinn. Coach Sylvester had to put her in the back because of how pissed off she'd been during practices lately. You could tell she was jealous and that she wanted to be captain again. In some ways, I felt bad, and in others, I felt like she deserved what she was getting.

Later that day, I decided to go talk to Sam for the first time in about a month and a half. Him and Quinn were still going on, but it was weak; it always had been. "Hey," I said lifelessly. "You're talking to me," Sam pointed out, unable to hide his surprise…..and slight confusion. "Yeah, I am, got a problem with it? I can always walk away," I told him. "No, it's kind of a relief. Quinn's all over me lately-" I interrupted him with, "When hasn't she been?" And then he finished "-and I don't get to talk to anybody aside from the football team." Sam's shoulder had healed, so he was QB again. "Oh," I said. There was an awkward silence. "Why are you wearing your uniform? Our next game's not until Wednesday," Sam asked. He seemed curious to know, so I explained about how I'd been promoted to cheer captain.

"But what about Quinn?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. I scoffed, "Of course that's what you'd be asking about." I was on the verge of pivoting and walking away. I blew a strand of lime hair out of my face, and readjusted my brunette ponytail. "That's not how I meant it at all! I'm sorry, Dana, you know that. I never meant for any of that to happen." This was about his thirtieth time of trying to apologize since the song he sang at glee club. "Shut up already. Your excuses bore me," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm really sorry about me and Quinn and all of that! Seriously!" Sam protested. I turned around so I was facing him instead of walking beside him and said harshly, "I'll have you know that your _precious _Quinn Fabray got pregnant last year. It was Puck." I walked away before I could explode on him any more than I already had. Besides, I had to go see Miss Pillsbury for anger management counseling anyways.

**I wrote this as a short chapter, sorry! But to make up for it, you get another chapter today! Yay! Two chapters in one day! Just click onward! ONWARD YOU CLICK!**


	9. Chapter 9

That day in glee club, Puck walked in with an ice pack held to his eye. You wouldn't believe what kind of memories it gave me – remembering being in that stupid guidance office next to Finn, who was now one of my good friends. Anyways, I figured Sam was the reason he was hurt. Quinn didn't sit with Sam that day – instead, she sat next to Puck, rubbing his shoulder and looking overly sorry for him. You know, I bet you she always comes back to him….

Wednesday finally came around. We killed it at halftime, and we were way ahead, too. The last few seconds of the game were the most exciting, with both teams tied. Everyone in the stands was cheering like crazy, mostly for the other team because it was an away game. A few McKinley fans dressed in red and white littered the bleachers, though. Us cheerleaders were doing offense cheers like crazy. If we scored, we would win. I kept an eye on the game at all times, leading the cheers only subconciously. And then we ended up with a penalty kick….and got it. We won the game.

All the cheerleaders were jumping up and down like crazy, a bunch of them ran to their boyfriends and started hugging and kissing them. You know what? Quinn ran straight to Puck, not Sam. Two of the players dumped a bucket of water over the coach's head. She looked more excited than anyone else, but you could tell it was more for her players than her. I had a feeling she made a good coach, whether she was strict or not.

My eyes scanned the sea of red and white uniforms and registered the numbers inside my head. The one number I never saw was Sam's. Then I saw him on the edge of the field, walking away. I jogged over to him and hopped on his back, bringing back memories from months and months ago when I decided to force him into doing glee club with me. It seemed like so long ago, with it being before my personal Dark Ages and all.

"Hey," I said, resting my head on his shoulder. "Congrats. You guys won. You're officially the best quarterback ever." I hopped off his back and waited for him to say something. "You're forgetting the millions of pro football players, aren't you?" Sam pointed out. "Well, I think you are. Counts for something doesn't it?" Sam shrugged. "I guess….but I'm surprised you want anything to do with me after Quinn." I rolled my eyes. "I missed you too much for that. It was sucky having to watch you be with her, though," I explained. Sam shrugged. "I never even felt that way about her, and I guess she never felt that way about me what with the way she ran back to Puck and all. The whole thing was fake." "Literally you guys faked it or that it never meant anything for either of you?" "The second one." "Poor Sam….." I fake pouted. Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't go pitying me. I liked someone else the whole time anyways." He shrugged. "Oh?" I teased. "Who's that?" Sam rolled his eyes and kissed me. I wound my arms around his neck. Well, folks….there's my answer I guess.


	10. Chapter 10

**FAST FORWARD!**

"Hey Sam," I said, stretching up on my tippytoes to rest my elbow on his shoulder, which was far above my head. "Hey," he said, kissing the top of my head. It was the last day of school and everyone was looking forward to getting their yearbooks. Glee got its very own page this year, with a group photo and individual performance photos and everything. I was definitely not looking forward to seeing how my picture turned out, but I did want to get my yearbook signed. It was my favorite part of the last day, and the only reason I even bought a yearbook.

We got slushied on the way to glee club that day. It had never, ever happened to me before, seeing as I was head cheerleader, but apparently Sam had experienced it quite a few times before, which made me feel kind of sulky and bad. He laughed at my blank expression, the one I make when I'm beating someone up with my eyes. I glared at him because _I _didn't think it was funny. That just made him laugh at me more, and eventually I found myself laughing along with him. Awkwardly, I pushed a blue-stained piece of Sam's bleach-blond surfer hair out of his eyes. "We should go get you cleaned up," I murmured. Still snickering, Sam put his arm around me and said quietly, "I could say the same about you." "Please, don't. Just don't." He smiled and pulled me by the arm gently into a nearby teachers' lounge.

It was empty because all of the teachers' were in class, and we were late anyways. Hell, it was the last day of school, who cared if we were late or not? I don't think anyone did. We ended up in front of the sink, trying to get the blue raspberry-flavored slush out of each others' hair. "It tastes so bad," I whined like a little girl, pouting and sitting in a plastic chair as Sam dabbed at my forehead, trying to get the blue stain out of my pale skin. He chuckled. "Cherry's worse. Quinn told me blueberry was the worst the first time I got slushied, but she was way wrong," he assured me. I cracked a weak smile. "What was the flavor of your first?" I asked him curiously, head cocked to one side. He swept a wet strand of lime green hair out of my face. "Cherry," he said, confirming my theory. "Well, maybe it's 'cause cherry was the flavor the first time you got slushied, and then it brings back the horrible memories, so…." He didn't let me finish before he kissed me.

We'd been doing a lot of kissing these days, seeing as we were now boyfriend and girlfriend. But this time seemed different. Longer, slower, better…. I know that it seems ridiculous to be comparing kisses to each other, but I couldn't really help thinking about it. Maybe it's because there were no teachers around whatsoever, no people around, no one but us. Maybe it's because it was more like that very first time. The electricity of it all, the heat of the moment, everything about it kept reminding me of that very first time that it happened, when we were sitting in the bleachers. It could've been because it was so pure, being before Quinn had tainted my good memories of him and stopped all the contact I had with Sam whatsoever for at least a month or two. I stopped caring after a few minutes, and then we were pretty much making out, and then I couldn't be sure of what happened next; it seemed like a dream. Maybe I fainted. Maybe we really did…..

Cleaned up, dressed again, making sure our hair looked okay and that no one was going to get suspicious, we waited for the bell marking the next period to ring. And when it did, we headed back to our lockers, holding hands in silence with knowing looks on our faces. Mercades' locker was right next to mine, and of course she noticed that something was up. So much for people not getting suspicious. She was totally giving me her "look." I couldn't help but smile and I just said, "What?" all innocently. Mercades smiled and said, "Oh, I think you know what. But I don't." I raised an eyebrow. "Tell me _everything_!" she gushed, totally ignoring my disbelief. I rolled my eyes and whispered it in her ear. She grinned and said, "I won't bother you about it." I took it as a promise.

Me and Mercades were pretty much telepathically communicating the rest of the day, and Kurt wanted to be in on our little secret, too, so we made him swear not to tell and we locked pinkies and then repeated the information. He smiled and said, "Congrats, Sam is a doll." I was just like, "I know, I know…." And then it didn't come up for the rest of the day.

Glee club was my other favorite part of the day (behind I-think-you-know-what) because we spent the whole time hugging and gushing to each other about how we'd gotten "SOOOOO close" and about summer plans. There was only one person I felt the need to wrap things up with, and that was Quinn. I knew she hated me still, but honestly, I didn't hate her anymore. She had good reason to hate me – I stole her head cheerleader position, after all, and maybe she had felt something for Sam even though he hadn't really. But I had no reason to hate her – Sam was mine now, in more than just one way. So I marched right up to the most popular bitch in our school and just said, "I'm sorry." Quinn looked up from the yearbook she was signing, looking half annoyed and half confused. Sam was giving me his lost puppy look from across the room, his gray-blue eyes practically smoldering. Quinn took a deep breath.

"I have everything most girls really want. I'm popular, and pretty, and blond, and a cheerleader, even if I'm not the head one. I have a boyfriend I really like. You shouldn't be apologizing to me. I should be apologizing to you, because I know that I'm the bitch that comes along with everything I have," Quinn said, looking like she was about to tear up. I sighed, and explained, "Quinn, you can't hide everything from everyone. You're not perfect, and I know you don't want to be, so stop hurting yourself by making yourself believe that you are. Hiding the scars of your past isn't going to solve anything. It won't make it go away." Quinn really did look like she was going to cry now. "The day Sam and I broke up. I went back to Puck because of what Sam did. I just wanted Sam to understand that it wasn't Puck's fault. It was….it was mine." Her voice was cracking, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"You really love Puck, don't you?" I asked her. She nodded. "I do, and I don't think he knows it," she said shakily. "He loves you, doesn't he?" Quinn shrugged. "Maybe you should tell him that," I suggested. Quinn smiled and wiped at her eyes, saying, "I can't believe I'm crying." "Boys are stupid, aren't they?" I said, gently teasing her. She laughed weakly. And the next thing you know, she pulled me into a hug. I smiled at the geniuinity of it all. It didn't seem fake or anything – not what you would expect of the head cheerleader. No, it seemed as though she really meant it. "I'm sorry, Dana. I hope that we can be friends now," Quinn said with a smile. I held her hands reassuringly and smiled, and we went back to the group to sit on the risers with everyone else.

Mr. Shuester was holding a copy of the William McKinley High Yearbook. That's what it said on the front cover. Mine was in my lap at that very moment. I sat between Quinn and Sam, our arms around each other. I felt safe with Sam's arm around me, and it felt good to know that my new best friend was right beside me. Mr. Shuester smiled at the club, eyes obviously scanning our strange little family – we had Cheerios, and jocks, and nerds alike, all co-existing and being friends with each other and smiling and laughing and singing together. It was weird for a high school, but we all loved it; you could tell by just looking. "You guys have had a tough year, but it was a great one. You have so much talent! And our two new members this year-" Mr. Shue smiled at Sam and me, and we smiled back. "-have come a long way. I think we all have. Now who wants to see the Glee club yearbook page?" We all cheered, and Mr. Shue opened the yearbook up to our two-page spread and showed it to us.

We all started grinning and laughing and whispering to each other. Quinn covered her mouth with her and and started giggling, then she leaned over and mumbled to me, "I so shouldn't have worn my Cheerios uniform on picture day!" My jaw dropped when I saw my picture and I started to shake with laughter. "Oh my God, I look awful!" I exclaimed. My blue vest blended into the background, so it looked as if some of my torso was missing. And my hair! The lime green in my hair was electrified by the lense flare, so it hurt my eyes to look at my picture. "Whoa, great picture Dana," Sam whispered in my ear sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and socked him in the shoulder. "Why did your picture have to come out so good?" I complained. Sam looked awesome – gorgeous even. Not that he didn't always, but most people had AWFUL yearbook pictures. Sam had, like, a _gift _for being in front of the camera!

"I'd say we've got a pretty great page, huh?" Mr. Shuester said with a huge grin. We laughed and cheered in agreement. "Okay, guys, you can use the rest of the free period to pass your yearbooks around if you want. We have about twenty minutes," he said. I turned right to Quinn, and said, "Be my first?" She grinned and uncapped her Sharpie, then replied, "Gladly." I managed to get the whole club (including Mr. Shue) to sign my yearbook. I signed quite a few myself, except for the few people that I didn't know so well.

Here's what my yearbook looked like when everyone was done:

_Glad you're with Sam. Now I've got Quinn back ;)-Puck_

_Finn Hudson_(I guessed he wasn't much of a guy for words)

_Hi Dana! It was really nice getting to know you this year! You sing AMAZING (not as amazing as me, of course!) and your performances really shined. Not to mention, you've been a good friend, even when I wasn't. And I'm sorry for getting so mad at you back when you hit Finn! I guess I should've tried to sympathize. Yours Truly, Rachel Berry P.S. Save this yearbook – I'm going to be famous someday, and this page could be worth a lot of money! _

_You were really great when you sang Boulevard of Broken Dreams with Mr. Shue. I hope that next year we will be closer than we are now. –Tina_

_Nice meeting you. __-Artie Abrams_

_I'm so happy that we're such good friends, and that we tell each other everything (wink wink, nudge nudge)_(Oh, Mercades…..)_I hope we hang out a lot over the summer, and that we get to go shopping! Have I ever told you that I LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE your outfits? Well, I do! Your BFF, Mercades Jones_

_Mike Chang_

_Matt Rutherford_

_Dear Dana,_

_It's nice to have someone like you in my life. It's hard to feel lonely with such a bright spirit around. It's great to have such a fabulous friend! Love, Kurt Hummel_

_You're hot. –Britanny_(O_O)

_I guess you made a reasonable head cheerleader. I should've been head, though. Nice meeting you…NOT. –Santana_

_Dana,_

_I know that just a half hour ago, we definitely weren't as close as we are now. I'm happy that we understand each other, now. I have a feeling that you're going to be a friend to me in a way I haven't really gotten to experience before. It's hard to make really good friends when you're like me. But I'd really like to thank you for looking past how mad we were at each other, and making up with me. By the way, I'm not angry at all that you are head cheerleader. I think you're great at it, better than I was even. Hopefully we will get to know each other more over the summer __Your Friend, Quinn Fabray_

_Nice job in Glee Club this year, Dana! Welcome __-Mr. Shuester_

And in the very bottom right hand corner of the page, in a red heart, Sam wrote in his all-caps handwriting:

_I LOVE YOU. _

Well, no duh, beautiful moron =)

**THE END!**

**Author's Note:**

Thank you so much for reading! This is the first Fanfiction I've actually finished, and maybe that's 'cause I wrote the whole thing before posting any of it, but I'm sure it also has to do with the fact that people are so great and read the story and well, to those people, thank you and I love you whether you liked the story or not. It's nice to be appreciated enough just to get people to click the measly little link to your Sam Evans love story, so thank you everybody! The end came quicker than I hoped, but I hope you keep an eye out for any other Glee stories that might be coming soon...maybe another Sam romance? =)

Love, DancingInMyDreams


End file.
